Look here!"
He drew a photograph from his pocket and showed it to her. She looked at
it long and earnestly.
"Yes," she admitted, "there is a likeness. It is like what I might have
been years ago. But will you tell me something?"
"Of course!"
"Why do you carry the picture of that girl about with you?"
He leaned towards her, and at that moment Lady Runton rose from her
place.
"In the winter garden afterwards," he whispered. "You have asked me the
very question that I wanted to answer!"
CHAPTER XVII
GEORGE DUNCOMBE'S LIE
There was something strange about Andrew's manner as he moved up to
Duncombe's side. The latter, who was in curiously high spirits, talked
incessantly for several minutes. Then he came to a dead stop. He was
aware that his friend was not listening.
"What is the matter with you, old chap?" he asked abruptly. "You are
positively glum."
Andrew Pelham shook his head.
"Nothing much!" he said.
"Rubbish! What is it?"
Andrew dropped his voice almost to a whisper. The words came hoarsely.
He seemed scarcely master of himself.
"The girl's voice tortures me," he declared. "It doesn't seem possible
that there can be two so much alike.
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